Time is of The Essence
by PPygmyPuff
Summary: Thrown back, and across, and THROUGH. Hermione had no clue of what awaited her, moving forward. She could only clutch her notebook and hope, against all hope, that she would survive this. Because judging by the trouble she had already gone through, it seemed that the Essence of Time was a well sought after commodity.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: G'day!

So, this one will have shorter chapters (this lil' blighter is one of the larger ones) - not sure if they still really count as chapters actually. But if I don't update ALE (haha I love that acronym), then the hope is that I'll update this fella right here.

Either way, I hope it's enjoyable xx

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Chapter 1

The moonlight crept down from the sky, slowly exposing roots and leaves across the forest floor. Deafening silence reigned as the world held its breath, the knowledge that _something_ was about to occur. The type of _something_ which unbalances the very time to which life clings to. _Something_ that will change _everything_.

Such somethings are littered throughout history, easy to see for those willing to look. In fact, if you were to map them all, you would find that this is the natural state of the world. These sorts of life-altering moments are in fact what we, as time-experiencing beings, fully exist in, and the moments of supposed peace act as a waiting room for the next period of _something_.

As it stands, this specific _something_ was a particularly important _something_, the likes of which occur rather more infrequently than even the moments of peace. And so, it was with great prudence that the world did indeed hold its breath as it waited for the _something_ to make itself known.

This _something_ came in the form of a pair of beings, trudging through the undergrowth with the grace of those attempting to remain silent but having very little practice at doing so. This is a common plight among humans (for the beings were indeed belonging to the human race – albeit a small offshoot known as Wixen) and so I mean no insult – they were making a reasonable job of going undetected. It's not as if they really had a chance anyway.

A shadowed figure watched the pair of Wix as they stumbled along the beaten down deer trail. All light seemed to evade the figure as they slipped between the trees, elegant as a dancer moving through the set. Her partners, old and wooded though they may be, never once faltering as they passed her off to the next, the faint whistle of the wind singing in time to the ancient dance. The dance of the hunter.

The Wix wandered on, unaware of the threat looming over them. The tallest and oldest one, Ronan, led the way forward, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger or, at the very least, a small or medium sized hut within which he could sit, rest, put his feet up, read in front of a fireplace as the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted over, just like the ones Mother used to…

_CRACK!_

Ronan and his companion both jumped slightly, stilling their movements to a standstill. This was it.

"Ronan, you idiot!" hissed the other, a young girl by the name of Marianne, "Alert the whole fricking forest, why don't you?" She threw her hands up in frustration.

Slowly, Ronan lowered his eyes down to the ground, to his foot, where the offending twig lay, cracked, on either side of his boot. Scowling, he turned his head to look the girl in the eyes, careful not to move his foot.

"What are we even doing out here, Marianne? Oh. That's right! _You_ wanted to pick flowers. And _now_ we're stuck in this Merlin-be-damned forest, out for a lovely _midnight stroll_." He huffed and turned back, crossing his arms petulantly, as a shadow flickered back into place behind a tree, eyes alert.

Marianne crossed her arms, eyes flashing in anger, "You're the one who said you knew where you were going! _Come with me, Marianne. Follow me because I know everything._" She imitated in a mocking tone, "Well look where your _intelligence_ brought us now _big brother_."

Their whispered debate echoed across the clearing they were stopped in, aided by the silence of the surrounds in carrying through the forest like an alert, only differentiable from the wind by those of exceptional hearing and practice at this kind of thing.

Ronan was getting worked up, "See! _This_ is why Mother left! She couldn't take any more of your shit."

His sister answered by stomping her foot on the ground, arms still crossed as she countered, "Oh please, like it wasn't your incessant whining that drove her away, you wanker." She scrunched up her face, "_Mummy, why does no-one like me? You like me, don't you Mummy? Oh Mummy, tell the other kids to be nice to me. I love you ever so much Mummy. Mummy, Mummy, Mumm–!"_

With a growl, Ronan launched himself at Marianne, covering her mouth forcefully with his hands and effectively cutting her off. Eyes wide, the siblings seemed to both realise where they were as the sound of a throat clearing reverberated across the clearing.

Sending their glances over to the other side of the empty space, they saw a figure, the same one which had been stalking them, standing in the gap between two trees. Obviously female, the figure stood with all the confidence of one who was completely at home in the forest, of one who, in fact, _called_ the forest home. Her eyes, normally dim in the name of blending in, flashed yellow, a warning to those who understood. The air surrounding her seemed to shimmer and crackle with pure force, her power obvious. Her face was slanted and pointy, with a type of ethereal grace and beauty. She was obviously not human.

"May I enquire as to _why_ the two of you have been bumbling about my forest?" Her voice was melodic as it rang out clear across the distance. It was the sort of voice that sounded like the wind one minute, or the rustling of leaves the next, but there was a hard edge to it, if you knew where to look. And the Wix _did_ know where to look.

They gulped.

Marianne took a step forward, "We apologise profusely ma'am. We were simply looking for flowers in the woods behind our cottage, but we seemed to have lost our way."

The being observed Marianne with sharp, but by no means harsh, gaze. Marianne fidgeted under the penetrating look, glancing down.

Ronan filled the space beside his sister, "Would you be able to point us in the right direction please ma'am?"

The being's head swivelled to look at Ronan, as he too looked down under her stare.

After a moment, the figure took a step into the clearing, closer to the pair just beyond the centre. "I will take you where you wish to go." The two Wix let out a small sigh of relief, tension leaking out of them. "But be warned, this part of the forest is dangerous to those like you. You would do well to not get lost again."

"Yes, Lady Vivan."

The figure froze in the centre of the clearing, "What did you say?" She whispered, dread filling her voice.

Marianne and Ronan shared a wicked smile, and spoke together, "Yes, Lady Vivan."

It's at times like these, when you realise that not everything is as it seems, where the correct response is something along the lines of 'Oh, buggering hell.', or 'Well, fuck.', or even 'Really? This again?'. Personally, I prefer the first as it completely encompasses both the current situation (buggered) and the final destination of one or all of the involved parties (hell). Of course, personal preference plays a large role in the chosen response, as well as the immediate action, but I have found that one of these three responses are generally employed.

Lady Vivan, upon hearing this, and realising that these two seemingly unsuspecting, and apparently lost, Wix do, in fact, know where they are, and are rather suspect in their activities, opted for the 'Well, fuck.' route. Internally, of course.

Externally, well, let's just say there was a bit of a discord.

"You two are rather good actors, I must say."

Marianne smiled brightly, a dark glint in her eyes as she cheerfully responded, "Thank you, your Ladyship. We tried _ever_ so hard." She fluttered her eyelashes at the trapped Lady Vivan, "You _must_ understand how much work we put into this. You see, it's not everyday you trap a Nymph."

Ronan laughed darkly, "And you are a _rather_ special Nymph, aren't you, your Ladyship?" He tilted his head to the side as he regarded her, "You know, I think we might just throw a party in honour of your capture."

The two were now circling Vivan, mocking her with their words. Marianne licked her lips in anticipation, "I think that is an _excellent_ idea, my dear brother. In fact, maybe we could name a holiday after her!"

Ronan had come a full circle now, and stopped in front of the Nymph, "It's a shame you won't be able to make it, _Lady Vivan._"

Marianne let out a mocking laugh as she walked behind and stopped next to her brother, leaning in close to Lady Vivan to deliver her final mockery, "It's sure to be one hell of a time.".

Turning around with a flourish, she walked toward the edge of the clearing, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder in goodbye as she called out, "Well, cheerio!".

Her brother backed out after her, maintaining eye contact with the fallen Nymph, as he smirked at her in triumph, before turning around and running after his sister, calling out, "Annie, wait up!".

The answering "Hurry up, slow coach!" could be heard as they faded into the tree line.

In the clearing, Lady Vivan closed her eyes. The magic the Wix had set was ancient (it had to be in order to catch a Nymph) and virtually undetectable. There was no way out.

And now, the circle was complete. The only thing left to do was wait for the end.

As the circle began to glow, Vivan whispered, "I'm sorry, my dear child. Forgive me."

And it was done.

Marianne and Ronan looked back at the glowing blue light flashing across the sky and smiled as the shock wave rippled out from the centre, from the once Lady Vivan, whipping past them and off into the night, an echo of the agony of the essence of the world itself. Turning to Ronan, Marianne grinned, "We did it, my dear brother."

"That we did, my dear sister."

"The Queen is dead."

"And long live the King."

Laughing, the two ran off, gaily chasing each other through the forest, no longer caring about what dangers lurked within, for they had destroyed the most dangerous of them all. After all, what do the victors have to fear from the losing team?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Lightning crackled silently in the distance, a world away from the wide-open field of wheat, heads swaying gently in the wind, playing joyously in amongst the eddies. A breeze carried fallen leaves away from the orchard, branches reaching out over the fence which separated the wooded cove from the field. A light tension hung in the air, a slow build of pressure from the impending storm.

The group of three laughingly made their way across, light-hearted as they jumped the fence and entered the orchard, the stalks of wheat seamlessly converging behind them to cover their tracks.

_The blood raced in her ears as all around her, black shapes fell to flashes of red and green. There was no time to stop and think as her wand flashed, taking down her opponents one by one. Time was running out._

Their sharp laughter rang out through the trees as the boy was dared by his two companions to climb to the top of the apple tree. With a flick of his hair, he nimbly clambered up the trunk, coming to a stop to realise exactly why the two girls had deemed this feat difficult to accomplish, as he was face-to-face with the absolute lack of suitable branches. He turned and gave them a withering stare as they once more broke out in audible happiness.

_Too many were gone already, it was only a matter of time before she was too weak to continue and they would be forced to retreat. Desperately searching, wand never ceasing in its deadly refrain, her eyes landed on the all-important battle; Light and Dark. Good and Evil. Dark Lord and Chosen One._

_Life and Death._

The apple flying overhead was deftly plucked out of the air, its journey interrupted by the girl in the fluttering yellow dress. Taking a bite out of the bright red fruit, she looked upon her companions with smiling eyes which sparked in the sunshine, gaining a wholly _Other_ quality.

_Screams filled the air, but she didn't hear them. She couldn't. Her eyes were locked on the lifeless body of her best friend. The world slowed as she sunk to her knees, lost in anguish. Shapes moved past her, unnoticed. She barely even caught sight of the blue light hurtling towards her._

She met the gaze of the girl in the burnt amber-lined cloak and smiled, sharing a joke as the boy waved his arms around, narrating a story and weaving pictures through the dust motes. The sun was at the horizon.

_The light surrounded her, a physical being encasing her in blue._

And everything…_snapped._

_Two became one._

Darkness fell.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Murky shapes moved in the blackness, gone too quickly and still too fleeting to resolve into solid form. Silence reigned, deafening in its intensity and absolute in its nature. The space contorted, pulling and stretching, as if the universe was realigning itself.

Floating in the misty space, she closed her eyes to block out the pain. Not any type of physical pain, but the emotional turmoil of having everything ripped from you in a glance. She let out a scream, reverberating around her skull and being swallowed by the darkness surrounding her.

She couldn't tell how long she had been floating for.

As if looking for something, the shapes started flashing past her faster, some appearing more defined in quality. Sometimes pausing to allow her a brief view of _something_, the world continued to spin, until…

Everything stopped.

Jolted forward with whiplash, she found herself in front of a screen of sorts, a large rectangle of bright white light. Taking a second to adjust her eyes, she blinked at what she found.

She was looking into the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

People bustled around, attending to a prone form on one of the beds. They appeared unaware of their silent observer, talking in muffled tones.

"You probably don't want to be able to hear them."

She spun around quickly, raising her wand on instinct. She was facing a woman, tall and pointed with a slanted face and an aura of power washing off her in waves. The woman smiled at her kindly.

"I will not hurt you, my child."

Shaking her head a little in disbelief, she held her wand up higher, pointed at the woman's chest.

"Who are you? She questioned, not really expecting an answer.

She was surprised when the woman responded, "My name is Vivan, Lady of the Forest and Carrier of Time."

Tilting her head to the side, she considered this, "Is that meant to mean something to me?"

Vivan chuckled, "No, I suppose not."

Now perplexed, she decided to go down a different line of questioning, gesturing to the darkness there were standing in, "Where are we?"

"Outside of time." Vivan answered simply, raising a hand to sweep around the space, "This is the only way I am able to speak with you. I am nearly at an end."

Closing her eyes, Vivan let out a sigh, "This was never meant to come about this way, but the universe, as I'm sure you'll discover for yourself, was never one to stick to rules."

Vivan opened her eyes and she was suddenly met with flashing yellow eyes, "The universe has chosen you to complete this task. Not because it thinks you _can_ succeed, but because you _will_ succeed. Do not doubt that you are here with purpose. It was always meant to be you. Just never so soon."

The woman walked toward the screen and reached out with one hand, drawing patterns in the blackness before it. Turning around, Vivan gestured for the girl to join her beside the light. With one hand on her shoulder as they both watched the scene, Vivan spoke.

"Find the ones who brought you here, they will help you."

And with that, Vivan stepped back. Entranced by the light, she did not notice as it grew to surround her, swallowing the blackness.

And suddenly she was falling, falling toward the figure on the bed. That was when she realised.

It was her.

She collided with the body on the bed. Two became one.

Hermione Granger woke up with a gasp, propelling herself forwards.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Breathing heavily, Hermione looked around the room with wide eyes as she forced her heart rate to calm. Looking down, she saw that someone had dressed her in a hospital gown, and she had bandages covering her arms. Moving experimentally, she winced as pain shot up her side, the stiffness under the gown telling her she had a bandage across her ribs as well.

Pushing aside the blanket, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, clutching her head in one hand as she suddenly got light headed. Waiting for it to pass, she grimaced.

When she felt a bit clearer, she slipped off the bed, her bare feet stinging a bit against the cold ground. Taking a step forward, holding onto the bed to stabilise herself, she determinedly made her way to the closed curtain surrounding her.

Pushing it aside, she walked out into the main hospital wing.

Time slowed down.

_Harry._

In shock, she stared at his face, which was looking at her in confusion, the look of familiarity Harry's face always had when he looked at her absent.

"Oh! Dearie, you shouldn't be up!"

Torn away from her perusal of the boy, she was jolted to reality by the entrance of Madame Pomfrey from her office, bustling over to Hermione to usher her back to bed.

Too tired and weak to protest, she allowed the Medi-witch to lead her back to the bed and tuck the blankets around her. She started to unwrap the bandages on Hermione's left arm, checking the wounds and slathering a paste over them. As she was rebandaging her arm, Hermione turned to her.

"Um…Madame Pomfrey? What happened? How did Harry survive? I saw him…die. I don't understand. This doesn't…it doesn't…I don't…" She said all this in a rush, panic starting to take hold as she began hyperventilating.

Pulling away sharply from the Matron as she tried to feed her a Calming Draught, Hermione stumbled out of the bed, intent on finding Harry. Pushing past a shocked Madame Pomfrey, she ran (as well as she could) out into the main wing again, eyes wide and searching.

"Harry?! Harry, this isn't funny!" She was getting frantic now, as she scanned the empty hospital wing. Eyes slipping over a curtain at by the door, she did a double take, running forward and ripping the fabric open.

Ignoring the shocked boys by the bed, she threw her arms around 'Harry', starting to cry as she grasped him tightly.

"I thought you were dead. Oh, Harry, it was horrible. I saw you get hit and you fell and I couldn't get there in time and…"

Becoming aware that the hug was _very_ one-sided, she pulled away slightly, staring into the startled _hazel_ eyes of the boy who was definitely _not_ her best friend.

Horrified, she whispered, "You're not Harry."

The boy shook his head, alarmed.

"Why are you not Harry?"

There was silence, no-one knowing how to respond to the child-like question. Hermione detached herself from not-Harry.

"I believe I can help answer that."

Slowly, Hermione turned to face who had spoken. The woman was standing in the doorway, smiling gently at the girl. She was wearing a fluttery yellow sundress with slashes of red across the front of it. Her long, blonde hair floated behind her, partly plaited around her head like a halo, flowers inter-weaved into the strands. She looked to be only a few years older than Hermione.

"Who are you?" Hermione whispered.

The woman smiled, eyes kind, "My name is Amaya."

Reaching out, she took hold of Hermione's hand, guiding her away from the shocked boys. Turning to the boys, she winked before closing the curtains behind her.

"Well, Hermione," She spoke, once they were settled back at Hermione's bed, "Welcome to 1977."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"No."

The word was out of her mouth before she could even process it.

"No way. That is not possible."

Amaya smiled kindly, "Anything is possible if you believe it."

"Well, I don't believe it." Huffed Hermione, crossing her arms.

With a tinkling laugh, Amaya threw her head back, eyes glittering in amusement. "Very well. How about if I show you something that you _know_ to be impossible? Will you believe me then?"

Hermione nodded, warily.

Amaya's eyes twinkled as she grinned mischievously at the girl, and without so much as a warning, they were sitting in a field. Hermione blinked as she looked around in surprise, taking in the heads of wheat clacking together gently in the breeze. She saw trees in the distance, their leaves rustling as the wind weaved its way through the air.

Turning with wide eyes to Amaya, she questioned, "How did you do that? How did we get here?" She looked around once more, "Where is _here_?"

Amused, Amaya smiled at her, before turning to look over at the orchard. "This is where you arrived, minutes away from death. You were sent right to us; the only ones who would have been able to save you." She turned back to the silent girl, "As for how I transported us here, the best answer I can give you, without explaining more than you are ready to hear, is Magic. Humans, and, indeed, Wixen such as yourself, only understand what they wish to. None know Magic as I do."

Hermione blinked, taking in the woman's appearance for the first time, her gaze freezing on the red slashes across her dress.

"You said you…I was…sent to you? You…healed me?"

Amaya lowered her head in agreeance. Hermione licked her lips, shifting in anticipation of what she was about to ask.

"Is that…I mean to ask, are those…blood stains on your dress?"

Blinking, Amaya looked down at herself. Letting out a little light-hearted laugh, she looked back up. "Well look at that! Why, I hadn't even noticed! I'm so sorry about that, honey, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Shifting her feet awkwardly, Hermione swallowed, "That's…okay. I just…"

Eyes softening in understanding, Amaya placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. Hermione jumped a little at the spark of _something_ that shot through her at the contact but Amaya seemed oblivious as she spoke, "I understand this is all a bit…uncomfortable for you, love. Just know that we will be here to help you all the way."

With that, she handed Hermione a notebook. It had a black cover with pearl blue designs over it, the colour seeming to flow as specks of teal and turquoise sparkled out of it.

Hermione took it, running her hands over it. As she examined it, Amaya spoke, "Use this book to contact us. If you have any questions, just write them down and we will answer. Don't let anyone else know about it, or have contact with it."

Amaya removed her hand from Hermione's shoulder, making eye contact with the girl, "I apologise that I can't say much more now, but know this; you are not alone. There will always be those willing fight alongside you." She smiled kindly, eyes warm in the sunlight, and Hermione found she couldn't look away.

"You are a good person, Hermione Granger."

Hermione nodded, tears glistening in her eyes for reasons she couldn't comprehend. She glanced back down at the notebook and when she looked back up Amaya was gone.

She was back at Hogwarts.

It appeared the impossible _was_ possible, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hermione remained silent as Madame Pomfrey bustled around her, fiddling with all sorts of potions and salves to find a way to treat Hermione's cursed wounds. Deep in thought, the girl hardly noticed when the Matron finished up, closing the curtains behind her as she left to help her other patients.

There was so much to consider.

First of all, who was Amaya? She was obviously powerful; no-one had noticed they had disappeared out of the hospital wing. And then there was the feat itself. _Was it possible to disapparate silently?_

She had also mentioned others. Who were they? And more importantly, why had she been 'sent' to them? Amaya had said that they had been the only ones who could have saved her, but why?

Maybe they were the people that Vivan had mentioned?

That was the big question; Who was Vivan? Hermione had never heard of anyone with the title Lady of the Forest, _or_ the Carrier of Time. What did it all mean?

It seemed as though a trip to the library was in order.

Resolved to research as soon as she got out of the hospital wing, Hermione lay back against the pillows, unaware of the conversation taking place in hushed whispers behind the closed and warded door of the office of one Madame Pomfrey.

"I don't understand how she arrived here, Albus. There is no way she could have breached the wards."

Minerva McGonagall was stressed. It wasn't everyday something managed to rattle the Transfiguration professor, but this just took the biscuit, crushed it and blew the crumbs to smithereens.

"Regardless, Minerva, it has happened. We will do better, I think, in this case by asking _why_ it occurred, as opposed to _how_."

Albus Dumbledore smiled that infuriating little smile of his, his eyes twinkling as he observed the harassed-looking Head of Gryffindor house. It was amusing to him to see the usually put-together woman less-than calm.

While the girl's arrival was unusual – one might even go as far as to call it strange – he had long since learnt that there is much he didn't understand about magic.

"Perhaps we shall gain more insight into this matter by asking the young lady herself, whether she has any recollection of how she came to be within the walls of our hallowed school."

McGonagall scoffed, "Really, Albus. It is okay to admit that you do not understand this anymore than I do."

Dumbledore chuckled, "Nevertheless, my dear Minerva, one must maintain one's reputation, you know."

"Honestly, how you have survived this long without someone murdering you is a wonder, Albus." Madame Pomfrey clucked.

McGonagall hummed in agreeance, "You are quite right, Poppy. It is a real wonder."

Dumbledore said nothing, hands behind his back as his eyes sparkled in mirth.

There was a moment of silence before Dumbledore addressed Madame Pomfrey, "How is the patient faring, Poppy?"

Immediately snapping into mode, Madame Pomfrey gave her diagnosis. "She is well. Her vitals are all stable, though I fear she may be in shock, the poor dear. The worst of her injuries seemed to have been healed already, though a few minor cuts and bruises remain. She should be able to leave in a day or two."

Nodding along thoughtfully, Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "Perhaps now would be a good time to question her over how it is she came to Hogwarts?"

Snapping her fingers, McGonagall pointed at the Headmaster. "I knew it! I knew you were just as intrigued as me!"

Dumbledore just chuckled as he gestured for Madame Pomfrey to lead the way, "After you, Poppy."

And with that, the three adults made their way into the Infirmary, all hoping to gain some insight into their mysterious guest.

But none of them really prepared for the reality.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Miss?"

Hermione was alerted to someone's presence by her bed by the soft-spoken, almost hesitant, word. Fighting the instinct to pull her wand on the intruder, she tightened her grip on the piece of wood, reassuring herself it was there. Rolling onto her back and sitting up, she turned to face the person who had spoken.

She blinked.

It was the Harry look-alike, who she now guessed was James Potter.

A very much _alive_ James Potter, at that.

"Oh…hi." She winced as her head twinged. Now that she was more aware of what was going on, the pain was starting to come back. She guessed her body must have shut down her nerve receptors while she still perceived danger, and now she knew she was safe (at least, safer than before) it was starting to relax a bit.

James looked concerned as he saw her wince, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

Waving his concerns away, she said, "It's alright. I'm sorry about earlier."

The boy's eyes widened, "No, that's fine. Can I ask…I mean…" He looked uncomfortable as he looked down at his hands in his lap, shifting on the spot. Hermione, understanding what he was asking, nodded.

"You're wondering who Harry is."

James nodded, peering up at her.

"He was my best friend. I think…" She struggled to say it, clearing her throat as the tears threatened to fall, "I think he…died."

It was so simple.

How could everything be over, just like that?

How could someone as amazing as Harry just be…gone?

His laugh, his smile, his _eyes_…and all that remained was that one word.

_Dead._

James gulped, not knowing what to say. "I…I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded, not noticing or caring about the tears slipping down her face.

"You…you look like him."

James' head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers, sympathy shining through.

It was all too much.

She put her head in her hands, shaking with the sobs that spread through her. She was alone. Harry was gone. Ron was gone. Ginny, Luna, Neville… How was she supposed to go on?

And then suddenly she wasn't alone.

She became aware of James' arms circling her, letting her cry into his shoulder as he stroked her back.

"I'm not going to say everything is okay, because it's not." His voice was soft, reassuring, as he spoke into her hair, "I'm not going to tell you to move on, because you shouldn't have to. But if you need someone, I will try my best to be there for you."

Hermione pulled back, looking at James in shock as she whispered, "But you don't even know me."

The boy smiled, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Maybe not, but I can see that you need someone, and I'm not one to turn away someone in need."

Hermione smiled shyly, burying her face back in his shoulder, "Thank you, James."

James stiffened slightly, wondering how she knew his name, but shook it off and held onto the girl in his arms. He meant what he said, he wasn't about to deny the girl his help.

He was unsure just what he could do to help her, but he was sure going to try.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey guys!

To my Guest reviewer: I'm not actually 100% on the final pairing/s as of yet. My personal ship in WolfStar, and I love a bit of Jily in the morning. The pairings I write, however, will generally depend on the way the story pans out. For this guy, I'll most likely I'll keep James/Lily because Jily really is the fricking _bomb_ (And, I mean, c'mon. Gotta let the poor bloke get the girl, right? It's only been, what? six years?). I'm also tossing up Hermione with one of the guys, but I might just leave her be and indulge in a wee bit of WolfStar. What do you reckon? I'll leave it for a few chapters and maybe you can tell me where you see it going. [Thank you for taking the time to R&R. And yes, I have to agree, James is bloody sweet - at least in my mind :) ] - PPP xx

Right. That offer goes for the rest of you lot too. If you spot something that might lead to a good ol' fashioned relationship, please feel free to let me know (These characters can be sneaky and I'll often miss things)

One last thing before I let you delve back into the world of HP; Thanks to all the people who have faved/followed so far, and to blacksbear for your review all the way back at chap 4. You guys rule and I'm so glad you enjoy this little foray into the land of imagination.

On with the show! xx

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Chapter 8

The teachers walked around the curtains and stopped at the sight they saw. The unknown girl was sitting up in bed, laughing at something James Potter had said, while the boy grinned brightly from the chair by her bedside.

Everyone at Hogwarts knew what that grin meant.

The adults looked at each other in exasperation and just a little bit of amusement. It appeared that James Potter was up to no good. Again.

The two teenagers simultaneously turned to face the arrivals, James smiling happily at them, while the girl turned white, amusement dying as she took in the sight before her.

"P-Professor?"

Despite knowing of reality, she hadn't really believed herself to be in the past. Until she saw the living proof in the form of Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and dead as of two years ago.

Sure, seeing James was proof enough, but she had never known him in her time.

And Dumbledore…that was a different story.

Seemingly unconcerned, Dumbledore moved to stand at the foot of her bed, smiling at her serenely, "Good evening, my dear. I apologise that I do not know your name."

Hermione shook herself mentally, "Oh! Right. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Ah, Miss Granger. I am Albus Dumbledore, and my esteemed colleagues here are Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey. Although I have reason to believe you are already acquainted with Poppy, as she has been the one treating you."

"I-It's nice to meet you, sir."

Hermione was hesitant to inform them that she already knew them as she knew the rules of time travel better than anyone. Although, she supposed she had already broken the first one; _Do not let yourself be seen_.

And she had already been told several times that she _belonged_ in this time.

Dumbledore's voice broke her out of her trance, "I was wondering, Miss Granger, if you had any light to shine on the means as to your arrival here?"

Before she could answer, McGonagall spoke up, her eyes trained on James, "Mr Potter, perhaps it would be best for you to re-join your friends?"

When James made to stand up, Hermione shook her head fiercely, grabbing onto his arm. He stopped, looking at her in concern.

Dumbledore chuckled, causing Hermione to blush at her actions and look down, still not relinquishing her grip on the boy, "I believe that may be the answer to your question, Minerva."

McGonagall pursed her lips, "Indeed. Well then, Mr Potter, you may stay."

James grinned, bowing his head as he retook his seat, Hermione let go of his arm as he responded, "I knew you loved me, Minnie."

"Yes, well, that remains to be seen."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, "Excellent. Shall we begin, then?"

Hermione nodded, filled with unease.

She sighed, _might as well get over with it._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Taking a deep breath, Hermione started to tell her story.

The world had gotten bad. Tensions had been building for two years before the war broke out properly. Disappearances, mysterious deaths, terror and fear rife in the air. The leaders…well they were mostly incompetent, denying what was obvious to everyone else. And then, their mentor, the man they looked toward to bring about the end, was murdered. Murdered by a man they all trusted, a man they believed to be on their side.

The fear and terror only increased from there.

Attacks got bolder, no longer bothering to hide. No-one was safe. They had to run. The three of them were the most wanted people in the wizarding world, the man hunt surpassing even that of the mass-murderer escapee a few years back.

Muggleborns were being rounded up and sent to either Azkaban or simply pilled into camps and quietly 'taken care of'.

There was a battle. They had been preparing for it the whole year. It was going to be the end. After this there would be no more pain, no more suffering, no more death.

After almost a year on the run, they had finally reached the finale. They could be free of everything, finally.

Harry was supposed to be the one able to kill him. They had finally gotten the snake, and all that was left was Riddle himself.

And then, Ron died.

She didn't know what happened to the others.

She had fought her way through Death Eaters, trying to reach Harry. The three of them had gotten split up early on.

Just as she spotted him, duelling the dark wizard, he was struck.

He never even stood a chance.

A stray killing curse; it could have even been friendly fire.

And just like that, the brightest hope of the Wizarding World, was dead.

Lost to her grief, she didn't even try to defend herself from the curse sent her way.

As soon as the light struck her, she knew no more.

Hermione had tears streaming down her face at the end of her tale. Somewhere along the way, James had grabbed her hand, offering her comfort. She squeezed his hand, glancing over at him with an exhausted smile.

Dumbledore looked contemplative as he stroked his chin, "I wonder, did you recognise the curse that hit you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, sir. I have never seen a spell like it."

"What colour was it, if you will, Miss Granger?"

"Blue, sir."

Considering this, Dumbledore stood up, waving his wand to banish his conjured chair, "I will search for such a spell, Miss Granger, and hope that, in time, we can come to a conclusion as to how this has happened. For now, I believe it would be best for you to attend classes. Seventh year, correct?"

"Yes. Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore made to leave, McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey following after him. Turning around, as if remembering something, he spoke, "Oh, and welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger."

With one last twinkle, Dumbledore left. Hermione, taking a deep breath, turned to James, eyes wide.

"Right. That happened."

James let out a laugh, "Yes, it did."

His eyes softened as he looked at her gently, "Are you okay?"

"Not really." She spoke, breezily. She turned to look him in the eye, "Thank you. I'm sure you must have questions…" She trailed off.

James shook his head, "They can wait until you're ready."

Hermione let out a sob, "You're so similar to your son." She smiled at him fondly, through her tears.

James' eyes brightened, "Wow. That's just…wow."

"Yeah, I know."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

James peered around the corner, checking the way was clear. Not seeing Filch, or his blasted cat, he gestured to the boys behind him to move forward. The first boy, playing along, did a roll out from the cover, landing up against the opposite wall, hands splayed dramatically as he exaggeratedly looked left and right. He flicked two fingers out, gesturing for James to 'roll out'.

"You do realise it's the middle of the day and no-one cares that we're out and about, yeah?" Remus Lupin drawled, rolling his eyes at the rude gesture one Sirius Black gave him.

"You're no fun, Moony."

Giving up, Remus strode down the middle of the corridor, doing his best to ignore the two idiots playing spy against the walls, dramatically leaping across the corridor.

"I never should have let the two of you watch James Bond."

The group had gone to watch _"The Spy Who Loved Me"_ just before the start of the school year and the two purebloods had become obsessed. He glanced at the boys he called his friends, creeping dramatically along the walls, sending various hand signals across the corridor.

He rolled his eyes. _Big mistake, Remus._

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hermione was preparing to leave the hospital wing. After collecting her beaded bag from Madame Pomfrey (Apparently the trusty bag had survived the trip – she had spent her bed rest organising everything, and had even found a handy spell to create sections, something she hadn't had time for when initially enchanting the bag), and getting dressed into her own clothing, she was currently getting a lecture about when to take her potions.

She had a stock of pain relief and nutritional potions, along with one to deal with prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse.

It was 'exciting' stuff.

She rolled her eyes…internally, of course. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey."

She was being genuine too. It had been nice to see a familiar face the past two days.

"That's quite alright, dear. Don't hesitate to come to me if you need restocking or if you relapse."

She smiled at the Medi-witch, "I will."

Madame Pomfrey smiled at her for a second, before ushering her out of the Infirmary, "Alright, child. Off with you! Do try not to get hurt, won't you? As glad as I am to heal you, that is not an invitation to get injured!"

Hermione laughed as she walked out the doors, waving goodbye over her shoulder as the doors closed behind her.

She still had a smile on her face as she walked around the corner, heading to the Headmaster's office. She had received a letter requesting her presence to discuss her living conditions – by which she was guessing the Headmaster was going to formally sort her. It would be the logical next step, after all. She just thought it would be weird to get sorted again.

_Though, it _is _technically the first time_. She smirked.

"Oi, Granger!"

She whirled around at the address, clutching her wand in her fist. She relaxed at the familiar face of James running down the corridor, two boys in tow, all three red-faced from running. She started at the sight of a young Remus Lupin.

"Hi James."

The third boy, who could only be a young Sirius Black, looked at her still-raised wand with a raised eyebrow, "You want to lower your wand, love?"

Blinking, Hermione looked down at her wand, having not even noticed pointing it at the oncoming boys. She lowered it with a blush, muttering, "Sorry. Habit."

Quickly stuffing her wand away, she changed the topic, "So, were you after something, James?"

Said boy smiled, running a hand through his hair, "Yeah. We were coming to see you, the boys wanted to meet you. You weren't in the hospital wing, and Madame Pomfrey said you were going to meet with Dumbledore so…" He shrugged with a gesture that said, _here we are_.

Reaching out, Hermione wrapped James in a hug, surprising the boy.

"Thank you." She said sincerely.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: G'day everyone!

Just wanted to pop in to say cheers to everyone who has faved/followed/dropped in a line. I've said it before, but you guys are the bomb!

Enjoy xx

(Sorry this guy is so short. I wanted to get a Marauder interaction in there, but there wasn't really much more to say. Also, I'm not in the mood to deal with old Dumbles at the moment, so I kinda skipped over his twinkling monologue of deceit [Sorry, not sorry])

* * *

Chapter 11

"So, Hermione."

"Yeah?" Hermione glanced over at the boy walking next to her.

"Any idea which house you'll be in?" He smiled over at her politely.

A young Remus Lupin was surprisingly adorable.

Suddenly, an arm was flung over her shoulder, and she followed it up to the matching face.

A young Sirius Black, however…

"Gryffindor, of course. All the other houses are a waste of time."

…was a cocky little shit.

Hermione smirked, pushed his arm away from her, and walked ahead, throwing her words over her shoulder. "Oh, I don't know. I was kind of hoping for Slytherin."

Sirius stopped, mouth open as he stared after her, "No."

Hermione didn't react, continuing along the corridor, content to simply listen to Sirius' implosion with a smirk on her face. James fell into step beside her.

"I'm sorry about them."

She looked at him out the corner of her eye, he was smiling and looking, if anything, proud of the antics of his friends.

"So…_do_ you know which house you'll be in?"

Glancing back at where Remus and Sirius were walking together – Sirius protesting that _yes, he _did_ have the face of a god _and that _anyone should be _honoured_ to be in the same house as him_, as Remus just rolled his eyes – she smiled, leaning in closer to James as she whispered.

"Well, I was in Gryffindor…before. Though the hat _did_ consider Ravenclaw."

James grinned at this and said no more.

At that point, Sirius, getting fed up of the limited response from Remus, bounded forward and landed on James' back, winding the boy and causing him to wobble on the spot.

"Sirius!"

"James!" Sirius grinned as he mimicked James.

"Remus! Get him off of me!"

Falling slightly behind the trio of boys, Hermione beamed. It seemed like this behaviour was universal as she was suddenly back with Harry and Ron, walking to class.

She was pulled out of her musings by their arrival at the stone Gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Right, this is my stop."

Hermione grinned as she looked at the three boys, and they grinned right back, James' glasses askew and Sirius' hair rumpled from their tumbling.

"I'll see you on the other side."

Turning to the Gargoyle, she spoke the password (_Acid Pops_) and it sprung deftly to the side. With a little wave, she walked up the stairs, coming face to face with the phoenix knocker.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked.

_Here goes nothing._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"You know…I rather expected her to have inundated us with questions already."

Amaya turned to look at her best friend and confidant with a smile, "I didn't."

Her friend grinned, amused, "Oh really?"

Nodding seriously, Amaya put one hand on her hip, "Oh yes. After all, nothing _really_ weird has happened to her yet."

Dìona threw back her head as she laughed, "That's quite true, Mai."

"I quite expect we shall be hearing from her soon, however."

Dìona looked at Amaya questioningly, "Oh?"

Amaya nodded, "Time may have accepted her, but spatially she is still not connected."

This sobered the two women and they stared contemplatively at the night sky.

"What's got you two looking so dire?"

The two women turned to see the newcomer, striding towards them with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face.

"Oh, hey Chester." Dìona greeted.

He nodded his head in greeting before looking toward Amaya in question, "What's up?"

Amaya shrugged, "The girl."

The man nodded in understanding, coming to a stop beside Amaya and sliding an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to his body.

"It will soon be time for us to intervene." Dìona warned.

Amaya nodded, "Soon. But not yet. She is not ready."

There was silence as the three thought, staring out at the peaceful sky, stars twinkling down, tantalizing them with the secrets of the cosmos. Secrets that no-one understood more than them.

As the stars started to fade, giving way to the break of dawn, a loud sigh from Chester broke the peace, "This is it, isn't it?"

They all felt it; the tension, the waiting, the anticipation.

Dìona nodded, "It is."

_Something_ was coming. A bigger something than ever before.

Amaya turned toward the rising sun, closing her eyes as the first rays touched her face.

"The storm is finally coming for us, after all these years."

Dìona moved to stand on Amaya's other side, the three beings standing united in the light of the new day.

"Let's hope we're ready when it breaks."

* * *

A/N: (I wanted to put this down here to not break the flow - it felt important for this chapter, idk don't ask. I've given up trying to understand myself too)

Anyway, I hope you guys didn't forget about Amaya and friends! (Btw. Anyone got any idea who tf they are?)

Thanks again to those who read/faved/followed, and to my lovely guest reviewer, Anon. I'm so glad you're enjoying this! I love writing it!

Much love for you guys xx


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A crack of thunder echoed down the halls as Hermione descended the staircase after an _enlightening_ meeting with the Headmaster. There was no new insight into the spell which brought her into this time, and it appeared as though she would be stuck here for the duration. Dumbledore had even written to an acquaintance in the Department of Mysteries, but had so far had no response.

Not that Hermione really had much hope that anything would come of it.

She had kept her _discussions_ with the ethereal beings a secret for now, not feeling it was right to inform anyone of such a thing _just yet_. There had been something…personal about the meetings that made her unwilling to have them be known. She couldn't explain it.

Regardless, it was clear that she was going to be around for a while.

_Might as well make the most of it._

She was stopped at the bottom of the staircase by the sight that met her. James and Remus were sat of the floor playing with a pack of cards while Sirius leaned up against the wall beside them, arms crossed over his chest, looking bored.

"Hi."

Her voice got James' attention, causing his head to whip around to look at her as Remus made the most of his distraction to place down a card from his hand, causing a miniature explosion and setting the end of James' tie on fire.

With a wave of his wand, Sirius extinguished the fire, laughing at the panicked look on James' face while Remus smirked at the scene.

Hermione chuckled.

"So…what's the verdict?" Sirius' face looked bored, though his eyes shone in anticipation.

Hermione's face became contemplative, as she asked, "I'm supposed to find a…Professor Slughorn?" She took on a confused look, scrunching her face up as if in thought.

Sirius paled, quite dramatically, as Hermione gave him an innocent smile.

"Oh, don't look as though I killed your cat. I got Gryffindor."

James let out a small whoop as Sirius spat, "Good. You don't want to be with the no-good snakes, anyway."

Hermione shrugged, choosing not to address Sirius' attitudes right at this moment. "They wouldn't let me in, either way. Not _pure_ enough, apparently."

In reality, the hat _had_ considered her for Slytherin. After all, one does not go through a war without changing in some way. The main concern was not, in fact, her blood status (although she really would have been eaten alive for it) but the fact that she didn't care all that much about self-preservation. While she may have had the cunning and resourcefulness needed to be accepted into the house of the snakes, she was too brash in her tendencies to be anything other than a Gryffindor.

And a fantastic Gryffindor she made, too.

"Shall we go to dinner, then?" James queried, not waiting for an answer as he took off in the direction of the Great Hall.

Sirius cantered off after him, calling out, "Wait for me, Prongsie!"

Remus and Hermione looked at each other, bemused.

Finally, Hermione shrugged, "Well, I _am_ quite hungry."

Remus chuckled, offering his arm out for her to take with a bow, "Shall we, my lady?"

Giggling at the fanfare, Hermione curtseyed, taking his arm as they wandered off after the other two Marauders, following at a more sedate pace.

"We shall."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When they got to the Great Hall, James and Sirius had already arrived and were piling their plates up with food, chatting with another boy sitting across from them. Hermione stilled at the vision of a young Peter Pettigrew. He was…_almost_ unrecognisable from the man in her time.

The one who had begged her to spare his life.

She shivered. Best not to think about that.

Taking a seat beside James, Hermione smiled at the table in general, "Hi."

Sirius swallowed his mouthful, gesturing across the table, "Hermione, Peter. Peter, Hermione." That done, he promptly went back to eating, cleverly disguised as stuffing his face.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione extended her hand across the table, "Nice to meet you, Peter."

Pettigrew grinned at her, wiping his hand on a napkin before taking hers and shaking it once, "You too, Hermione."

He turned away from her as she started to drag food across to her, and onto her plate. To tell the truth, she wasn't all that hungry – a year on the run will do that to you – and her stomach twisted a bit at all the food in front of her. How the boys were able to shovel it down the way they did was beyond her. Not to mention, they were all skinny as anything! It should have been impossible!

Prats.

Realising she was glaring at her plate – which only had a few potatoes and some peas on it – she shook herself, looking up to tune in to the conversation going on around her.

Watching the laughing boys sitting around the table, Hermione had a sudden thought.

_Harry should be here, not me._

Her throat suddenly clogged, feeling the weight of the room push down on her. She was starting to panic, the words _I shouldn't be here_, cycling through her head on repeat, speeding up and getting more and more overwhelming as everything became all too much.

Feeling the tears prick at her eyes, she grabbed her head between her hands, barely aware that she was mumbling aloud and rocking back and forth on the bench.

"Hermione."

The voice brought her out of her panic, guiding her back to the present. Becoming aware that a good deal of people were staring at her in blatant curiosity, she stood up.

"I…" She looked around at the concerned faces of the Marauders staring back at her, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

And with that, she left the Great Hall. Not really caring where she was headed as long as it was _away-from-here_.

It wasn't until she found herself leaning against the door of Myrtle's bathroom that she broke down fully, tears streaming down her face as her body was racked with sobs.

The only thought visible through the pain was;

_Harry._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

She remembered about the notebook on the third day of classes.

There was nothing extraordinary about the realisation, or even the events leading up to the realisation, but nevertheless; she remembered about the notebook on the third day of classes.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, alone in her dorm, she considered the book laying in front of her.

It was rather pretty, actually.

The swirling blue designs on the cover stood out sharply against the black, seeming to almost twist and come alive as she watched. It was made of heavy material, seeming almost more _solid_ and _real_ than any of her normal books – or really anything, for that matter. There was an air of importance to it.

What was it that Amaya had said? _Use the book to contact us_.

There was that pesky 'us' again. Honestly, those people should learn to be blunt, it would get them a lot further, and leave less people confused as all hell.

_Don't let it be seen._

The voice floated from out of her memories.

Making a decision, she bundled up the book and grabbed her book bag. It seemed she was going on an adventure.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The door to the Room of Requirement closed quietly behind her, as she took in the familiar sight in front of her.

The Burrow.

The place she felt most at home in. It was quite sad that she felt more at home in the domain of the Weasley's than in her own family home.

Though quite fitting, she supposed.

She had left her home behind when she entered the Magical world. Now she had fully left her world behind. Again.

With a sigh, she slumped over to her favourite over-stuffed armchair. Dropping onto the worn material and curling her feet up under her, taking out the notebook and opening it up on her lap.

Taking out a pen (all her quills were broken – and she much preferred muggle ball-point pens anyway), she considered what to write. _Hi, I just remembered about this book and I don't know what I'm doing_?

Remembering Harry's tale of Tom Riddle's diary, she wrote.

_My name is Hermione Granger._

* * *

A/N: (Don't ask why I put this down here rather than at the top. I have no clue)

So, I've been gone for a little while (like only a week and a half, but still), but I'm semi-back now (I'm thinking updates will be a little more spaced out from here). I'm currently manipulating a move so I'm booking flights, and applying for visa's, and organising couriers and all sorts of mind-numbing, confusing-as-hell and over-the-top-complicated shit. It's a bit hectic. But anyway, enough about that.

In reply to my Guest™, I think I have a solution to the whole pairing dilemma. You might have to wait a few chapters to see but a few things kinda fell into place. I hope you'll enjoy the direction I'm taking this (even if it doesn't become fully clear just yet).

Also; as of next chapter, the tone of the story shifts a bit as a result of...well I'll not say just yet. The angst kinda becomes secondary (I know the last chapter ended on a fricking angst-riddled train-wreck)

As always, thanks you guys. You da best xx


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Okay. Before I start, I just want to say that I hope this isn't too confusing. I'll pop a little note at the bottom of the page but everything should be explained properly next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 16

Hermione watched her words on the page. Nothing happened.

Almost ready to throw down her pen in frustration and call it a night, she was startled as the book heated up. Eyes glued to the page, she watched words appear.

**Yeah…I know.**

Hermione could almost picture the person who wrote it rolling their eyes.

_**Di! Be nice to Hermione.**_

**Sorry, I just…**

_**What? You just what? Don't play stupid with me D**__**ì**__**ona.**_

_Um…hi?_

_**Oh! Hermione! Hello, dear.**_

**Hi Hermione.**

_**No. You don't get to talk to her after that, Di.**_

**Oh, come on, Mai! I'm sorry!**

_Can someone please tell me what's going on?_

I can try.

**Oh, Chester's here too! Hi Chester!**

Hello, Dìona. What mischief have you been up to?

**What? Nothing!**

_**You liar.**_

**I'm not ly…okay maybe. But I said sorry!**

_**Typical. You'd think being the **__**literal incarnation of Magic **__**would prompt you to behave a bit better!**_

_WHAT?!_

**Hey! That has nothing to do with anything!**

_**Not to mention you are as old as the Earth itself!**_

_Can someone PLEASE tell me what's going on?_

**Well! So are you!**

_**Still, you should know better!**_

**I have to fill the time SOMEHOW!**

_Hello? Anyone?_

I think you two should continue this discussion some other time.

Don't worry about these two, Hermione. I've had to deal with them for the last eternity, it gets easier to ignore. I promise.

_**Oh, you did NOT just say that Chester!**_

**I think he did, Mai.**

_**When I get my hands on you, mister…**_

Look. Just stop, guys. Hermione came to us for help. Let's just work together, okay?

_**Okay.**_

**Cool with me.**

Excellent. Now, Hermione. Where to begin…

* * *

A/N #2: Basically: Four characters. Each with their own...style (I think that's the best way to describe it? Idk). Either way, the 'styles' are as follows;

_Hermione._

Chester_._

_**Amaya. **_

**D****ì****ona****.**

So sorry if that was confusing as all hell, but it seemed the best way I could do it.

Also. Next chapter is the explanation so get ready!

(Thank-you to everyone who's still reading/faving/following. Also shout out to my SUPER-MEGA-FOXY-AWESOME-HOT reviewer, JessicaImpossible. Like seriously. Two reviews per chapter?! Man, you know how to make a girl feel awesome!)


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Hermione stared at the book in front of her in horrified fascination and just a _hint _of amusement. She had been expecting a weird Tom Riddle-like object but honestly? Three…_beings_ arguing in real time over written word? Speaking of beings…

_Maybe start with the part about being the LITERAL INCARNATION OF MAGIC!_

_**Ah, I did say that, didn't I?**_

_Yes!_

**You really did, Mai.**

_**Shut up, you.**_

Shaking her head at the notebook, Hermione wrote.

_So, does someone want to explain, please?_

Of course. 

As you have probably already gathered, we are not human. Together, we represent the spatial, or matter-based, part of the Universe.

**Of the Earth, of course. We are tied to the planet.**

Hermione nodded slowly, trying to get her head around it.

_So…if – I'm sorry, I don't know your names._

**No worries. I'm D****ì****ona.**

_**I'm Amaya. You met me last week.**_

My name is Chester.

Hermione thought for a moment, her mind going back to what she wanted to ask.

_So…D__ì__ona represents Magic?_

**Correct.**

_What do Amaya and Chester represent, then?_

_**Well, it's a bit hard to explain. But basically, I am Life, while Chester is…Death.**_

_Oh. That…what does that mean…exactly?_

**Oh geez. Okay. The best way to explain it is that we are the three constants of the Universe. Creation, Interaction and Destruction. No matter the object, everything will experience these three constants. Are you understanding?**

_I…think so._

_**Simply put, we three carry the Essence of our own Universal constant. While they may be represented by different things, the Essence remains the same. Effectively, we are the three spatial dimensions.**_

Hermione frowned. She wasn't sure _what_ she had been expecting, but this was not it. She had never heard of anything like what the three beings were describing, and was honestly tempted to throw the book down and never return to it. Or maybe just burn the slab of no-good, chewed-up wood.

She cocked her head to the side, contemplating the problem at hand.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the notebook heating up again. Hermione looked down at the words appearing on the page.

_**Are you okay, Hermione?**_

Shaking her head in a haze, she penned, _Yes?_

**That's a no, if ever I've seen one.**

_**D**__**ì**__**ona…**_

**Well it is!**

Before this descends into another argument…

Hermione chuckled involuntarily at Chester's intervention. Ignoring the fact that none of what they were saying seemed even remotely plausible, they made for a most amusing show. As much as Amaya and Dìona appeared to clash, it seemed that, when the cards were down, the three of them would make a single, solid unit, capable of taking down the strongest of obstacles.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she realised something.

_What exactly does this all have to do with me?_

**An excellent question, kiddo!**

_**Oh, Hermione dear, I thought we explained that.**_

**We really haven't, Mai.**

_**Three guesses why.**_

**I resent that.**

_**Good.**_

Hermione was getting a headache.

I say this with the utmost respect; Shut up.

**Wow. Rude.**

Enough, Dìona.

**I was done anyway.**

_**You really are a menace.**_

Anyway, Hermione, back to your question. The simple answer is; this has everything to do with you. While we are the spatial part of the universe, and exist in the first three dimensions of space, there is a fourth dimension.

_The fourth dimension…_ Hermione paused as she thought. Suddenly, she was hit with a brainwave. Brightening, she wrote, _…time?_

Correct.

Hermione's mind was racing as she fought to connect the dots. On the page, Chester was still writing.

You met Lady Vivan, yes?

_I did…oh! She said she was the Carrier of Time! So, she is the fourth dimension, so to speak?_

You would be correct, except –

**She conked it.**

Hermione blinked.

_**D**__**ì**__**ona!**_

Dìona is right. Lady Vivan passed (**Murdered, **cut in Dìona. Chester ignored her, instead opting to continue his explanation without so much as a hitch), and so the Essence has been without a Carrier. Her magic is what has brought you here. In that moment, your core connected with hers and allowed you to be pulled from your time and into hers.

_I don't…that's not..._

_**Hermione honey, what we are trying to say, is that you have been chosen as Vivan's successor and Heir. The universe has selected you – indeed, it helped pull you out of your own time.**_

_**You now possess the Essence which Lady Vivan Carried.**_

_**The Essence of Time.**_


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Well shit. (bigger explanation at bottom of page)

* * *

Chapter 18

Hermione was confused.

In fact, she had spent the last two weeks confused.

She could find _nothing_ in the library that referred to the Essence of Time! Zilch! Zip! Nada! It was like it didn't even exist.

She groaned as she closed the back cover of yet _another_ useless book, and dropped her head onto the desk in front of her.

Just as Hermione was considering whether she could bang her head against the desk hard enough to jolt her back to her own time, she was distracted by a faint scuffling behind the bookshelf.

Lifting her head up slowly, she listened intently, before grinning.

"You can come out now, boys."

There were muffled groans, paired with the sound of tussling, before the four Marauders trooped out from behind the stacks, with moderately sheepish looks on their faces. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at them, appraisingly.

"Hey Hermione," Began James, running his hand through his hair, "We were just…uh…"

Peter rolled his eyes at his friend, walking over to the desk Hermione was at and kicking out a chair, "We were spying on you." He said matter-of-factly as he sat down.

Sirius groaned, "You're not supposed to _tell_ her that, Wormy."

Peter just shrugged at Sirius, unconcernedly, and Hermione couldn't help but grin at his nonchalant manner.

"Thanks, Pete. At least one of you is honest with me." Hermione joked.

Peter nodded seriously, "You're most welcome, Hermione." He cracked a grin after a moment of maintaining the serious expression, and Hermione giggled, her attention now successfully diverted from the mystery which had been bothering her the past two weeks.

As she settled down, the other three boys gathered around the table, Sirius leaning back against the nearest bookshelf, Remus sitting on the spare chair, and James perched on the edge of the table. Remus picked through the pile of books Hermione had accumulated, brow furrowing as he read the titles.

"Why are you looking up Time Magic?" He raised his eyes curiously to Hermione's.

Hermione shrugged, "It's interesting. I used a time-turner to take extra classes a few years ago, but I don't really understand the mechanics of the whole thing."

"You used a time-turner?" Peter asked incredulously.

"More importantly," Sirius interjected before Hermione could answer, "You used a time-turner to take _extra classes?_ You are _so_ boring."

Hermione drew herself up, and replied haughtily, "Education is extremely important."

"But _extra_ classes? Of all the uses of a time-turner…" Sirius trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he stared in wonder – most likely envisioning all the shenanigans he could get up to with such a magical device.

Hermione snorted at the faraway look on his face, "You probably don't want to hear about how my best friend and I used it to go back in time, saved a hippogriff, faced off against a fully-grown werewolf – twice – and then rescued a man from the dementors kiss, do you?"

"What?" Sirius asked, with a dumbstruck look on his face.

"Nothing!" Hermione sang with a grin.

James let out a laugh, slapping his hand on the table as he announced, "Right. It's time to go to dinner. Who's in?"

"Me!" Peter stood up so fast the Hermione didn't have time to blink.

Remus chuckled weakly, standing up slowly. Before he could move from the table, Hermione grabbed his arm. He turned back to look at her warily.

"You know, I don't have a problem with werewolves, Remus. I just wanted to make that clear. I hate the discrimination against them. It's unfair and cruel, and I will defend that stance until the day I die."

Remus swallowed as he looked at Hermione, "W-Why are you telling me that?"

Hermione smiled gently, "You just looked like you were affected by it. I saw you go blank when I mentioned the werewolf and I wanted to assure you that I didn't mean it in a discriminatory way."

Remus stared at Hermione a moment longer, before nodding briefly and joining Sirius, who was waiting on the other side of the table for them.

Hermione smiled reassuringly at the questioning look Sirius gave her, gesturing for him to leave.

She was about to follow the boys out of the library, when she caught sight of a book that had fallen from the shelf. It was nothing more than a sliver of garish yellow peeking out from under the bookshelf, but it grabbed her attention.

Crouching down, she tugged the book towards her and turned it over. She stared at the cover in silence for a moment.

She groaned.

_Essence of Time for Dummies_

Not cool, guys. Not cool.

* * *

A/N #2: Just wanted to pop in here with the reason this took so long to get out...

So basically a great deal of Australia is on fire. And it has been for quite some time. NSW, for instance, has been on fire since September. And it is largely uncontrolled by the VOLUNTEER firefighters who have been on call, working it since the start. These guys are absolute legends; leaving their families and loved ones at the drop of a hat in order to get out there to protect our lives, homes and wildlife from the red devil.

New Years Eve brought another bout of devastation to the country. People have fled to the beaches, and to lakes and ponds, to escape the fires. So many people have been evacuated, some of them with their homes lost to flames. Communications went down along the South coast, where a literal path of destruction has been cut across the land. Over the past months, the sky has been painted red, and the land coated in smoke thick enough to need respirator masks even kilometers away from the fire fronts.

This is a climate emergency.

This is not normal.

I don't say this to preach at you, or even really to startle you into action, I simply want to convey the terror that so many people are facing this New Year, and to beg you not to normalise this. Devastation should _never_ be normalised, not to this extent.

Please don't ignore or deny this emergency. Even if you simply take a moment to think over these events.

I have lived in this country as long as I can remember, and I've never seen anything this terrifying. Sure, we have a fire season every year; this is Australia, bushfires happen. But this? This is extreme and catastrophic.

I give thanks to our amazing firies, and implore our leaders to do more than send out 'thoughts and prayers'.

With hope, we look to the future, but know that no change may come about by idly wishing.

\- PPP xx


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Hey... so I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. I do actually have quite a few chapters already written out so there's not really any excuse NOT to post them, but life's been crazy.

Stay safe guys xx

* * *

Chapter 19

_SERIOUSLY?_

Hermione rubbed her forehead as she looked down at the notebook in front of her, awaiting a reply. She had retreated again to the Room of Requirement, though this time it had taken the form of the library at Grimmauld Place, for some weird reason.

She shrugged it off as she felt the book heat up on her lap.

**You got it, then?**

_YES! I GOT IT._

**I just thought it would help.**

_**D**__**ì**__**ona, what have you gone and done?**_

**I was just trying to be helpful, Mai. The poor girl was scouring the library for weeks. Mercy knows she wouldn't find anything.**

_What's that supposed to mean?_

"You're not about to find anything on the Essence in a school library."

Hermione spun around at face the owner of the voice, her wand flying into her hand instinctually as she did so. Standing in front of the fireplace, leaning back on the stone and with a book in her hand, was a woman. She was tall and lithe, with dark brown wavy hair and shining blue eyes. Her cloak, the inside lined with burnt amber, fluttered about her ankles.

And she was currently smirking widely at Hermione.

"Who-?" Hermione shook her head to clear it, adjusting her grip on her wand as she looked at the woman hesitantly, "...Dìona?"

The woman snapped the book closed, her smirk transforming into a grin, "Yup! That's me."

Hermione dropped her wand to her side, and allowed herself to tumble over the arm of the sofa behind her, lying flat on her back and staring at the ceiling with a groan, "How do you people keep doing that?"

Dìona let out a chuckle, coming around to drape herself across the armchair opposite Hermione, legs thrown carelessly over the arm and her head hanging over the side, eyes closed, "You'll be able to do it soon enough."

Hermione sat up at this, balancing herself on her elbows as she studied the eternal being, "Really?"

Dìona nodded, bringing her hand up to her face as she yawned, "Absolutely. Plus a whole host of other things too. It's a pretty good gig."

"Except for the part where I might get hunted down and killed." Hermione said wryly.

The Incarnation of Magic waved away the concern carelessly, "Nah, you'll be fine. We'll look after you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she studied Dìona incredulously, "Because that worked out _so_ well for Lady Vivan."

Dìona cracked open an eye to glare at Hermione, "Don't go knocking the skill, kid. Vivan knew what she was getting into. _I_ had nothing to do with it." She closed her eyes again, crossing her arms behind her head as she settled back against the chair, "Now be quiet and let me sleep."

Hermione stared incredulously, starting to feel slightly amused, despite the gravity of the situation. With a mental shrug, she lay back against the sofa, copying Dìona's position and closing her eyes.

The world could wait for five minutes.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: So, I rather enjoyed this chapter. Like, nothing much meaningful happens in it, but I find the picture it paints quite funny.

Thanks for sticking with me this far, shit's about to get a wee bit more interesting in the next like...two(?) chapters. Well, interesting to me, so hopefully to you guys too. Like - stuff's gonna actually happen, or get set in motion, of whatever you want to say.

Enjoy xx

* * *

Chapter 20

Five minutes turned, rather easily, into three hours.

When Hermione awoke, she was alone with Dìona's cloak was draped over her body, and the candles had been extinguished. With a groan, she considered just going back to sleep. No-one would be able to find her here, and she really _did_ need to sleep. What with her confusion for the past two weeks, Hermione's brain had been too addled to get much rest. Most nights she had snuck down to the common room to puzzle over the mysteries of the Universe.

Literally.

She turned over onto her side, and was just about to close her eyes again, when she saw a flash of white, as a piece of parchment fell off her stomach and onto the floor. Suddenly wide awake, she sat up, reaching for the parchment as she did, and swung her legs down to the ground.

Rubbing at her eyes, Hermione studied the parchment. On it were just three words.

_Read the book._

Hermione snorted. _Very funny._

Pushing aside Dìona's cloak, she stood up, stretching her hands above her head as she yawned. She walked over to the mantlepiece, stopping when her foot connected with something. Looking down, she found a piece of lined paper under her foot. Picking it up, she rolled her eyes at the two words scribbled on it.

_I'm serious._

Tossing the paper onto the armchair, she continued on her journey, past the mantlepiece and over to the bookshelves. Running her fingers along the spines of the books, she stopped on one which looked promising, _Magic of the Soul: A young sorcerer's guide to connecting with your magic._ Pulling the book out (who knew magic came in self-help books?), she groaned as she saw the bright orange post-it-note on the cover, right over a rather awful illustration of a teen wizard with a pained smile and a thumbs-up (_'if I can do it, so can YOU!'_).

_Read it, Hermione._

She stashed the book back onto the shelf, wondering how Dìona had known which book she was going to pick up. With a thoughtful expression, Hermione pulled out another random book. Her thoughtfulness quickly turned to incredulity, as the book was revealed to have the _exact same post-it-note message on it_. A quick check at the other books on the shelf showed that they all had the same message on them.

With a huff, Hermione turned away from the bookshelves, stomping back over to the middle of the room. She was half-way across, when something crinkled under her foot. Closing her eyes, and looking to the ceiling, Hermione clenched and unclenched her hands, counting to ten.

Taking a steadying breath, Hermione looked down at the piece of _honest-to-god_ silver tissue paper, on which were five words in sparkling golden ink.

_You leave me no choice._

Suddenly worried at what the being might do, Hermione glanced around the room cautiously. When nothing seemed amiss – and she couldn't spot any more notes – Hermione let out a breath, deciding to just leave the room. Walking over to the sofa, she retrieved her notebook, and – after contemplating just leaving it for the errant woman to find – slung Dìona's cloak over her arm.

Just as she was about to open the door, the book fell out of her hands, and landed on the ground face down, its' pages spread open.

With a long-suffering groan, Hermione retrieved the book from the ground. As she picked it up, a gift tag, complete with ribbon, fell out, fluttering to the floor. Picking it up, Hermione looked at it with her brow furrowed.

There was no writing on the tag, and she turned it over in her hands, examining both sides. The only thing identifiable about it was the shimmering pattern, looking almost like the flat surface of a lake, or body of water, the type where when you look in you can see your –

Almost as soon as she thought that, she became aware of a weird tightness on her face, almost the feeling she remembered from when she used to get her face painted at the fairs when she was younger.

She conjured a mirror.

_Oh yes,_ Hermione decided as she stared in horror at her reflection, _D__ì__ona was definitely going to get it._


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: To be fair, I've been busy. And then I pretty much let this fall to the wayside...and to the recesses of my mind, where good thoughts go to die, and bad ones to fester. Um...hopefully this holds up? Ugh anyways, enjoy it, laugh at it if its terrible, invent your own re-tellings of my re-tellings of JK's work, i dunno.

Keep safe out there peeps xx

* * *

Chapter 21

The sun was rising in the distance, throwing its orange rays out into the world, and backlighting the mountain scenery.

Many people have been attracted to the spectacular light displays afforded by the birth of the new day throughout the centuries. Perhaps it's the symbolism of life and birth which draws people in; The hope for a better today, and an even greater tomorrow.

Maybe it simply meant that the predators who stalk the nights have finally retreated, the safety of the day bringing an end to the terrors of the night.

Perhaps it's the way the colours light up the sky; Humans _have _always liked pretty things, after all.

The one to best explain the draw of the sunrise would be Amaya. Her very being happened to be irrevocably linked to this dawning of a new day, after all.

However, she was not here. And those that were here, had no wish to delve into the psychology of the sunrise, nor had they any urge to listen to anything Amaya would have to say. In fact, they would much sooner cause her harm, than lend her an ear.

The group was made up of mainly Wixen (there were a few werewolves on the outskirts and even a pair of vampirical beings – they, ironically, were the only ones to pay attention to the sunrise, though they cringed away from it), the leader of whom, was yet to arrive.

One particular Wix, one who was, at this moment, stamping his feet and clutching his jacket closer around him, cursed the cold and the wind and the Earth itself for forcing him to endure such treatment.

He was quickly shushed by those nearest him, and he proceeded to glare moodily at the ground.

Now, he most definitely had a point. Humans were not made to be standing around in the wind and the cold, and as such were quite limited creatures. The vampires, being undead themselves, would have scoffed at this display of weakness had they not been above such an action.

"Let me just take one of them, Daramir." The shortest vampire, Boris, whispered as he leaned into his sire, "One surely won't be missed. Look at them! They are but fools!"

Daramir, being far older, and far wiser than Boris, shook his head discretely, "Not yet, my young padawan," (they may be vampires, but they are not without _style._ Any idiot can tell Star Wars is not a creation of mere _mortals_; it is the work of gods) "We must wait, and then, when all is done, and their petty squabble is over, we shall feast."

Boris, content with this answer, turned back to hungrily eyeing the _foolish_ humans.

Their day would come. Eventually.

But for now, Boris would have to make do with this one.

The leader – some would say dictator – of the group finally made an appearance, stepping dramatically out of the shadows of the mountain. With his arms outstretched, black robes hanging from the ivory-pale skin, he spoke to the gathered.

"Welcome, my friends, to a new dawn," A flash of brown eyes and blinding white teeth, "_Our_ dawn."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: There's no rhyme or reason behind when I post, just fyi. They come out when they come out, though I guess I might be aiming for one a week? But it'll depend on whether I get impatient or if I forget (for frickin _months_ \- I'm sorry about that...), so they'll either be late or early. I exist only on a sliding scale of everything to nothing.

Stay safe out there xx

* * *

Chapter 22

Remus Lupin was currently hiding in a broom closet.

No, not hiding. _Making a tactical retreat_.

It was a strategic decision, really. One which Remus was undeniably proud of. Completely proud of. Yup, it was a smart choice. It was really actually quite brave of him to ensconce himself between the four walls – three walls and a door – of the broom closet.

Of course, if he had had more time, he _may_ have chosen a…larger space, but still, it was a decision to be proud of.

Why? Because Sirius Black was on the other side of the door.

Not that Sirius was aware that Remus was hiding – retreating – in the closet. Oh no. That was why it was such a good decision.

Remus was avoiding Sirius.

Yup, you heard that right.

Remus Lupin was avoiding Sirius Black.

The reasons weren't important. Just know that the avoidance was taking place, and accept it. The fact wasn't going away any time soon.

And neither was Remus.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sirius was _sure_ he had spotted Remus down this corridor.

So sure, in fact, that he would bet his Gryffindor scarf on it.

But, unfortunately, the sandy-haired, juvenile werewolf was nowhere to be seen. The only thing Sirius could see, was a group of hormone-riddled teenagers, all clamouring for Sirius' attention.

"Oh, come on, Sirius. I know you want me." Said some…what was the yellow house called again? Jigglypuff? Something like that. Either way, he needed to get past.

"Honestly, I'd prefer the giant squid." Uncaring as the girl was stunned into silence, Sirius quickly made his getaway, sprinting down the corridor and around the corner before any of the students could stop him.

Only to come face to face with a literal _sea_ of students, filling the corridor. As one, they turned to face him. Sirius paled dramatically.

And then, the noise started.

"Mine? Mine! Mine, mine, mine! Miiine!"

He ran.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hermione groaned as she exited the Room of Requirement.

She had scrubbed her face raw, cast glamour after glamour, tried every counter-spell under the sun, and yet she couldn't get rid of the marker covering her face.

It was a really quite childish trick, if she was being honest; To draw over someone's face as they slept.

The words, '_Read the book'_ were drawn across her forehead (backwards so they could be read in the mirror), and her cheeks were covered in various scribbles – including a rather crude picture on her left side which had made her blush to look at.

About halfway through attempting to get rid of the drawing on her face, Hermione had become aware of similar scribbles up her arms, and even covering her stomach and legs. They also seemed to be multiplying. The words '_I mean it, Hermione'_ and _'This is your own fault'_ also featured.

Dìona had certainly made her point.

Suddenly, Sirius Black came shooting around the corner, spotting a shell-shocked Hermione and running over to her, grabbing onto and ducking behind her, before peering around her in the direction he had come from.

"Don't let them get me." He whined pitifully, glancing at her and doing a double take, "What happened to your face?"

Hermione sighed, self-consciously rubbing the side of her nose, "It's not important."

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment, before whimpering and burying his face behind Hermione's back, gripping her elbows with his hands to keep her in front of him.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "_What_ are you doing?"

Sirius ducked further behind her, stooped over ridiculously to try get his much larger frame behind he, pulling her back as he pressed into the wall. Just in time for a group of students to come hurtling around the corner, and straight past Hermione and Sirius, shouts of '_Mine!'_ echoing around the corridor.

In the confusion, Hermione called the Room of Requirement back up, fumbling a hand behind her for the door handle as Sirius whimpered pathetically behind her. She grasped the handle, and pushed open the door, allowing Sirius to stumble in before she followed, slamming the door shut and leaning against it, breathing heavily.

"The world's gone mad." Sirius stated from his position on the floor, arms splayed and staring at the ceiling, "Certifiably. Mad."

Hermione quite agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Lily Evans really loved magic.

The things one could accomplish with a flick and a carefully constructed incantation, well, it blew the mind to think about. Almost seven years down the track, Lily could still recall to mind the feeling of awe which had overcome her the first time she had stepped onto platform 9 ¾. It was, to put it simply, mind-boggling.

Even now, she sometimes woke to a feeling of stuttering disbelief at the impossibilities she experienced day after day. Truthfully, some days she expected to find out it had all been a dream, and that she was going to wake up and have to go back to her mundane, magic-less life.

And yet, every day, without fail, for the past six and a half years (at least), Lily Evans had woken up with the knowledge that she is, was, and always will be, a witch.

Now, this doesn't negate the fact that, before this knowledge, she grew up without magic. Nor does it override those base instincts engrained within a child in the first few years of life.

It follows to conclude that, should one, say for example, be pulled unceremoniously into a dark room by a faceless entity, well. One might react a certain way. Like, by throwing the nearest object at whatever entity is attempting the ambush, for instance.

(Forgive her for screaming just a little too, it's hard to battle instinct)

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Hermione had split with Sirius outside the Transfiguration classroom, where the Marauder had disappeared the other direction on some unknown errand. Hermione hadn't really been listening to what the errand was, but she had dutifully waved goodbye and continued onward in search of retribution.

Or food. Whichever came first.

There was a whistling noise behind her and she ducked instinctively, crouching low to the ground and clutching her book bag to her chest. Thundering footsteps came down the hallway as she looked up, just in time to spot a fanged frisbee soaring overhead. Before she had time to do much more than spot the frisbee, her vision was obscured by a sea of black.

A group of maybe fifteen students, ranging from teensy first years all the way to lumbering sevenths (Hermione thought she spotted Peter – with a Ravenclaw scarf tied around his head like a bandana, and yellow war paint on his cheeks), thundered past her, warbling out war cries and snatches of Quidditch chants.

Bewildered, but resigned, Hermione pressed back against the wall, waiting for them to pass.

As the group got to the end of the corridor, the fanged frisbee (having disappeared around the corner a moment before) came flying back over their heads in the opposite direction, and one of the first years called out an order, bringing the group to a halt as they all went skidding. The first year cried out again, pointing after the frisbee, and they all went hurtling after it, not pausing in their war shouts.

In no time, the warbled cries faded out, and Hermione was left in the deserted corridor, clutching her bag and blinking. There was a trampled Gryffindor tie on the floor, and a sheen of glitter falling to the ground in wake of the stampede.

"What the…" Hermione whispered, hoping the red and gold fabric would spring to life and give her some answers. Though, if it did, she might end up with even more questions.

Standing up shakily, Hermione hitched her bag further up her shoulder. And then she stopped.

The glitter had fallen in a very specific pattern.

_Read it!_

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, leaning over the scoop up the tie smoothly as she walked down the corridor and reached up to secure the tie around her head, leaving the length of it dangling against her cheek.

The glitter swirled behind her as a breeze swept the hall.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Get o–! What are you–!"

There was a hollow thunk, followed by thud, and the hand on her arm disappeared. Lily stumbled, and her foot landed on something. A low whine – like air being squeezed slowly out of a balloon – underlined the silence. Lily froze.

Looking to the ceiling, she let out a groan, "Why me?"

With that, she lifted her foot. The hellish high-pitched bray that followed pierced the air like the screams of a hundred thousand vanquished balloon dogs, and left the silence after it heavy and thick.

The lights flickered on.

Lily blinked down at the rubber chicken which she had somehow managed to grab a hold of and throw at...

Dumbledore grinned in front of her, holding up a plastic purple teapot.

"Chamomile?" He offered, teeth glinting.

Lily blinked again.

"Yes please!" The voice was not Lily's, and she looked around Dumbledore to find the rest of the faculty sitting on cushions on the ground around a low table covered in a white tablecloth. It was Professor Slughorn who had spoken, and Lily had to blink again as she took in the odd pair of socks stuck on each of his ears.

Come to think of it, all of the faculty had odd socks over their ears – McGonagall had paired hers with ginormous orange glasses which kept slipping down her nose, Flitwick was sporting a sparkly red jumpsuit, Kettleburn had taped a spatula to the stump of his arm which he was using to nudge a fake cupcake around the plate in front of him…

Lily looked back to Dumbledore. He had a neon green tutu around his head.

Dumbledore wiggled the teapot in her direction.

Lily looked back to the table.

She sighed.

"Chamomile sounds lovely."

* * *

A/N: I love Lily Evans


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The liberated Gryffindor tie swung happily in the corner of Hermione's vision, bouncing against her cheek with every step she took.

She stepped aside to let a pair of Hufflepuff's sprint past – throwing sunflower seeds into the air as they went and singing _Here Comes the Sun_ – then skittered around a circle of Ravenclaw's clustered around a blue flame, passing around a flask of something smelling suspiciously like pumpkin ale. With a sigh, Hermione flicked her wand, dousing the frankly dangerous flame in water and ignoring the outraged shouts of the Ravenclaw's as she marched on.

Turning a corner, she pulled to a stop just before the Divination courtyard.

It was, simply put, madness.

Someone had somehow coaxed an entire herd of Hippogriff's into the castle grounds, where they were now gathered, eating the remains of pumpkins – the orange flesh scattered across the stone courtyard and interspersed with stringy insides dotted with white seeds.

If that wasn't enough, it seemed that every single cat from the castle and surrounding area had unanimously gathered and decided to make the courtyard their home.

As one, the animals, Hippogriff and feline alike, turned to look at Hermione.

The blood drained from her face and she raised her hands, slowly taking a step backwards.

A tabby cat blinked at her.

Hermione fled.

She raced down a corridor, blatantly ignoring the paintings calling out to her as she passed, and she didn't stop until she slammed into a banister, looking down at the shifting staircases and breathing heavily, heart pounding.

Below her, on one of the staircases, a familiar group was chasing a blond-haired Slytherin girl, shouts of 'mine!' drifting up.

Hermione panted for breath, turning her back to the banister and leaning against it. Around her, the castle thrummed with chaotic magic, shouts and music, snatches of singing echoing through the walls.

She sunk to the ground–

The castle had never felt so alive. It was as if the walls themselves were come to life, carousing and rough-housing and playing with reality. The mania bled out through the stone, infecting the inhabitants with cheer and insanity.

–And Hermione laughed–

Bag abandoned on the ground, uniform askew.

–And laughed–

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her chest heaved with laboured effort, her hair frizzed away from her scalp.

–And still she laughed.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"So, let me get this straight," Lily shifted her legs underneath her to lean forward, addressing the circle of teachers as she took a pretend sip out of her empty plastic teacup, "The turtles are plotting world domination and we," She gestured at the room at large, "are the only ones who can stop them."

The teachers all nodded earnestly. McGonagall took a regal sip from her flowery cup, glasses slipping down her face, "That is correct, Miss Evans. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Lily rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a huff of incredulous laughter, "Turtles."

"The Testudines Turn-over and Socks for Change Society," Began Slughorn, rearranging the yellow sock over his left ear, "Is the world's only defence against the tyranny of Tonka the Tortoise."

"Anyone want to explain the name to me?" Lily asked the room at large.

"The Testudines are up to something," Slughorn nodded unhelpfully.

Flitwick put his cup down, "Yes, and we demand they turn over Tonka for questioning."

"And who is Tonka again?"

"Their leader."

"Okay. Fine," Lily huffed, "Testudines Turn-over, Tonka the sea turtle or whatever," She pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, "What does any of this have to do with socks?"

Professor Kettleburn leaned forward excitedly, holding up a finger as he waited for everyone's attention before speaking, "Testudines have a tendency to bite ears." He leaned back in his seat smugly.

The professors nodded sagely, as if this was all perfectly reasonable, and Lily hid a groan behind another sip of invisible Chamomile tea.

"Top up?" Dumbledore asked, offering up the purple teapot.

"Sure," Lily sighed, resignedly holding out her cup.

The door slammed open and the inhabitants of the room all swivelled to look at the open door. In the doorway stood Hermione, and she looked an absolute mess (in the nicest possible way, of course). Her skin was bright red, and where it wasn't, she was covered in ink. Random drawings, scribbles that, on second glance, looked like mirror-image letters and in some places it looked like the ink had been smudged. Her tie was loose and her robes hung off to one side, her hair frizzed out more than usual and just adding to the half-crazed look.

And, for some odd reason, there was a Gryffindor tie around her head.

Hermione looked at the room with wide eyes, sweeping over the strange outfits and the socks, and landing on Lily being served invisible tea by the headmaster. A bewildered look overtook Hermione's face and Lily froze.

To her surprise, Hermione let out a bark of laughter, "Of course. A tea party. What else?"

Hermione continued mumbling to herself as she closed the door, and Lily jumped out of her shock.

She looked around the room once more, before deciding just to go with it. She leant her elbows against the table.

"Okay, listen up. Here's how we get the turtles to give us Tonka's location…"

* * *

A/N: The testudines are up to something...

This little bit of ridiculousless has absolutely no meaning, and doesn't in any way influence the plot (:

Do with that what you will.

Any maybe drop a line? I promise shit's gonna actually start happening soon, just the way this has fallen, the chapters are like, fairly small, so there are a _lot_ of chapters that could be described as exposition. Not a lot of plot yet, but we're building up to something...

Enjoy, and I'll get back with more soon.

\- PPP xx


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